


Pretty, Frightful Things

by kakumei



Category: Saints Row
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kakumei/pseuds/kakumei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles featuring Matt and my OC, Hana. It uses various AUs (which will be briefly described in the chapter summaries), but everything is post-SRIV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an OTP prompt I found on tumblr: Imagine your OTP laying together in a bed, Person A is reading a smutty novel/story while Person B is trying to sleep. Person A then gets in the mood and tries to wake up person B, but finds out that they are wide awake and wanting it. Person B didn’t want to interrupt because person A seemed too focused on reading.
> 
> Naturally, this chapter has a domestic AU setting, with Matt and Hana living in England and happily married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Celesteennui for beta'ing the fic! :D

_He didn’t think that she would come. But when he saw her silhouette break the navy canvas of the night, Nyte Blayde could feel an ache where his heart once pulsed in his chest. The Canoness entered the dark alleyway, the moonlight disappearing from her face as she lowered her cowl to her shoulders. His unbreakable curse meant that they would always be natural enemies. As she walked towards him, with her blood red lips curved in a sultry, devilish smile, Nyte Blayde knew that tonight they would be lovers._

 

\---

 

Matt shuddered under his bedsheets, a grin stretched on his face from ear to ear. His breath fogged his iPhone screen. Finding prime Nyte Blayde fiction was like picking the proverbial needle from a haystack of mediocrity and literary filth.

 

But Hana interrupted his read through while she exited the bathroom, the sweet fragrance of pomegranate body wash following her out the door. “You’re already going to sleep?” she asked, sounding disappointed.

 

“Not quite yet.” replied Matt. “I think I’ve managed to find something promising on this fansite. It’s been a long time since I’ve indulged in something this... tasteful.”

 

“Oh really?” asked Hana, a playful lilt in her voice. “I’m guessing you’re in the mood for something romantic?”

 

Matt nodded eagerly. “I’m only hoping that Nyte Blayde is in character!”

 

\---

 

_“Nyte Blayde,” the Canoness crooned. “I am shocked - I never thought you would agree to see me. I half expect that soon your lecherous, murderous hands will be at my throat.”_

_“Not tonight, Canoness.” Nyte Blayde lifted himself from his motorcycle. His nails dug into his palm as he steeled himself for his distasteful proposition. “The Darkness took Marion. We both know that neither you nor I are capable of defeating her alone.”_

_“I have the strength of the Cyprian Order’s brotherhood, vampire.” objected the Canoness, though he saw through the crack in her voice._

_“Yes.” Nyte Blayde bit his lip at the memory of his once kin, now cold-blooded adversaries. “You did. Until they discovered what you helped unleash into the night. You helped create Marion by killing her in cold blood!”_

_The venom of Nyte Blayde’s words broke the floodgates of their mutual rage. Hands flew to their respected pistols, and soon both mortal and superhuman were met with the ends of each others’ barrel. They hated each other, their minds screamed._

_‘She betrayed me.’ he thought bitterly. Nyte Blayde believed the Canoness only saw him as a soulless monster. They both had gotten far too friendly with their triggers, and too angry to care who their bullets sank into._

 

\---

 

“No.” Matt whimpered quietly into his knuckle. “Nyte Blayde - don’t do it!”

 

He heard his wife mumble something to herself over the blow dryer, but he didn’t think to ask for any clarification.

 

\---

 

_“Trust me, Nyte Blayde.” The Canoness gritted her teeth; it almost seemed as if she had fangs of her own. “In any other circumstance I would gladly shoot you and watch your corpse burn under the rising sun. But you are right. We must join together to end this new evil, and quickly.”_

_Nyte Blayde was caught off guard by her acquiescence. He could only surmise that she wanted to redeem herself in the Cyprian Orders’ eyes. But once the Order knew of their secret alliance they would surely turn her away from their fold forever. “You want to join me?” he asked with caution._

_“You asked, did you not? Why do so if you do not trust me?”_

_“I never will trust you again, Canoness. But Stu betrayed me. Marion is dead. With the Cyprian Order gone, you’re the only one I can turn to against the Darkness. You’re... all that I have left.”_

_The Canoness lowered her weapon and secured it into its sheath. The vampire hunter cocked an eyebrow. She removed her cape, and lifted her shades. In the darkness, Nyte Blayde couldn’t tell what her deep grey eyes were studying._

_“That is right, Nyte Blayde. I am all you have now.” The Canoness came close and placed her hand on his shoulder. His survival instincts kept Nyte Blayde’s gun arm unwavering, and he pressed his weapon against her stomach._

_“Relax, my love.”_

_“Canoness...” Nyte Blayde growled. “We can only be partners in combat.”_

_She laughed; the Canoness knew far too well who Nyte Blayde was really trying to convince. She let her hand slide up until it met the cold, fair skin of his neck. “Yes, my dear Nyte Blayde, of course. Consider the things I am about to do to you as a ... seal of our temporary alliance.”_

\---

 

It took all of Matt’s willpower to keep an excited giggle down his throat. It was late into the night; Hana had already joined him in bed, and he figured that she too was exhausted from work and had fallen asleep. Which was quite unfortunate, Matt thought. The new turn of events in this fanfic might have intrigued her as well ...

 

He turned over as subtly as he could, so his weight didn’t disturb the mattress. Matt lifted his head and saw that Hana’s eyes were closed. With regret, Matt lowered himself on his back, resigning himself back to the story.

 

\---

 

_His mind quickly jumped to Marion - sweet, tragic, beautiful Marion. There were many times Nyte Blayde had denied her, because he was afraid his curse and his anger meant he could never love her as he desired. Still, Nyte Blayde couldn’t remember what the fires of lust felt like until the Canoness kissed his hesitant mouth. He dropped his gun, his hands flying to her hips, and yet his guilt was running through him like the poison in his veins._

_“Canoness...” Nyte Blayde murmured, too conscious of the alleyway filth surrounding them and the questionable characters that could discover them coupling. It was scandalous, to say the least of the situation. But the Bloody Canoness insisted he be quiet, as she backed him up against the wall and peppered his jaw with kisses._

_“Just one night, my dear.” The Canoness whispered into his ear. “Tonight we forget the pain we have caused against each other. Let us make up for lost time, yes?” Clever and deft hands quested across his body armor, unshackling the clasps that held it all together._

\---

 

Matt winced at the continued descriptions of Nyte Blayde’s armor (which were discrepant to his own intricate headcanon) but willed himself through the rest of the steamy play-by-play. As far fetched as it was, the idea of the Bloody Canoness taking Nyte Blayde in an alleyway seemed titillating. Matt felt his skin grow hot. A deep ache pulsed below his stomach not long before the Canoness sank down to her knees and unabashedly pleasured her vampire lover.

 

It was tempting to simply lower his hand and start relieving the pressure between his legs. And yet Hana was right there, her hip against his, the blankets subtly rising and falling with her breaths. If she was still awake, and she was willing...

 

Matt groaned and shut off his phone. “Hana?” His voice hardly registered as a whisper, his pale cheeks burning while he chastised his greediness. “Are you sleeping?”

 

The covers rustled as his partner shifted her legs. “No.” She sounded tired, but at least not quite upset.

 

“So... that story was quite interesting.” Matt started. He placed his phone on the nightstand and then wrapped his arm around Hana’s waist.

 

“It’s a bit late for that, dear.” said Hana, yawning.

 

“Yes, of course. If you want, I could always send you a copy in the morning.” Matt pressed his chin against her shoulder. “Though tonight, I wasn’t exactly thinking about reading in bed together.”

 

As Hana turned to face him, he saw that he’d elicited an incredulous look on her face. “You do realize that I’ve been trying to come onto you since I stepped out of the shower?” she exclaimed, her brows knitting together.

 

“Wh-what?”

 

Groaning, Hana sat up and revealed the black, lace negligee under her bathrobe. “That explains the pomegranate body wash..” In his revelation, Matt rolled onto his back, feeling his face flush up to the top of his ears. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You were reading something smutty, weren’t you?” Hana asked him, shaking her head.

 

“Well I uh, it was quite um, mature, yes. It was a hypothetical with Nyte Blayde and the Bloody Canoness, where they joined forces to fight the Darkness during season two. ”

 

A corner of Hana’s mouth was slightly upraised. “Was it good?”

 

Matt darted his eyes towards the sheets, checking to see if his arousal was evident underneath them. “It was nicely written in some parts.” he admitted the truth sparingly. The author’s armor deconstruction still irked him.

 

“And what about the parts you liked?” Hana’s fingers skimmed over his collarbone. “Was it hot?”

 

“Wh-what?”

 

“The naughty bits, love.” She kissed Matt’s cheek. “You were trying to wake me for an encore, weren’t you?”

 

A proper response failed to formulate in Matt’s mind. Instead, he pulled himself over his wife, kissing her fervently whilst his thumb lifted her chin. Hana could barely say his name through her giggling and his insistent ministrations. Matt felt her thigh press against his waist, her heel digging into his back.

 

Hana managed to pull away for a brief second. “You owe me terribly. You do know that, right?” she laughed.

  
Matt nodded sheepishly, but couldn’t hold back the sly grin on his face. “Rest assured - my retribution will be quite inspired.”


	2. Indecision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt goes grocery shopping to prepare for a Nyte Blayde marathon, but Hana slows him down with her less-than-stellar shopping habits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic AU. Based on an OTP prompt from Tumblr: Imagine your OTP going grocery shopping and arguing about which flavour of ice cream to get.
> 
> Thanks again to Celesteennui for the beta!!

Matt’s plans for the NyteBlayde season seven finale were detailed, but simple and short. Step one had been to ensure that every single task that Asha could bother with him tonight had been accounted for, and that his automated email/text responder was geared with his “I’m off-call, don’t bother me” message. Step two had been to re-optimize the stereo system in his living room so that the bass boost didn’t clutter Nyte Blayde’s deep growls with too much feedback noise. 

He’d thought that getting ingredients for his avocado dip would be as hassle free, until Hana had seen him grab his car keys that afternoon. A hedonist at heart, Hana had a knack for spending money on frivolous pleasures. But she was also notorious for being extremely indecisive. What was supposed to be a 20 minute run to the produce section turned into a whole waltz around the supermarket for comfort food.

“Darling,” Matt sighed, with as much patience as a man who’d seen his wife compare prices on a bucket of ice cream for the umpteenth time could muster. He felt as if he’d stood there long enough to see Hana’s breath crystallize by the refrigerators lining the aisle. “If you can’t decide now, we can always come back another time.” 

Hana still focused on the nutritional chart inked on the ice cream carton. “It says here that this has as much saturated fat as double-churned ice cream... but it is Heavenly Hash...” She looked up at him, completely unfazed by his impatient grimace. “Would chocolate be too rich after avocado dip?”

“Assuming there’s still a chance to make avocado dip after this shopping trip? Maybe.” Matt’s finger repeatedly rapped against his shopping cart, which was filled with more of Hana’s choices than his.. “Sweetheart -”

“As much as I like chocolate, I don’t think I’m craving almonds in my ice cream anyway. Maybe something fruity would be better. How about this strawberry cheesecake flavored one?”

“Or we could get actual strawberry cheesecake, instead of a terrible, overpriced substitute?” Matt realized too late that his words might have prompted another errant visit to the bakery. He grew a strong urge to bang his head repeatedly on something hard. “Look, Hana, dearest - Nyte Blayde will be on in an hour and a half, and I’d really like to get things settled before the grand finale. Can you please - for the love of all that is holy - make up your mind?”

Hana laughed and smiled. She returned the Heavenly Hash to the fridge. “If you want to get this done quickly, then I think you’ll have to decide for me.”

Matt sighed, rolling his head back in exasperation, but promptly parked the cart closer against the side of the aisle. He reached for the large vanilla tub conveniently closest to the door handle, but only got so far as glossing his fingers with its frosty layer. The reflection on the glass fridge door showed Hana grimacing with her arms folded over her chest. 

He looked over his shoulder. “Why don’t we just get neapolitan and be done with it? It’s got three flavors in it - strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla. Now you can just decide what you want at home.” 

“Once we get waffle cones to go along with it.” Hana clasped her hands together and grinned.


	3. A Matter of Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana has a near death experience on the Ship, and isn't quite comfortable talking about it with Matt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This falls in line with my canon SR Universe. It's post-SRIV, and the Saints are facing a rebellion among the Zin; the Boss in this universe is a default Latino male. Hana Maeda is one of the humans abducted by Zinyak, and joins the Saints as their weapons master. I imagine that the war between the Saints and the Zin that happens after SRIV is a bit like Star Wars - except the Empire wins.
> 
> Thanks to hunnybadgerv for taking the time to beta this drabble! <3

Hana was on her second strawberry daiquiri, swirling the little pink umbrella over and over again between sips. She knew she must have looked like a mess, with her dishevelled amber streaked hair and the racoon eyes left from hours of nonstop weapon modifications. Anyone with standards would have been appalled to see Hana drinking away her sorrows in the galley, accompanied by nothing but glowing mushrooms and a stockpile of rations sitting on the floor.

 

That was why she didn’t expect Matt to step through the automatic doors, and pull up a seat when he caught sight of her. There was no mistaking the little furrow in his brow - the kind of wrinkle that told Hana he disapproved, but wasn’t quite judging her.

 

“It’s a bit early to start getting plastered.” said Matt, neatly folding his hands together atop the kitchen table.

 

“Well, the standard time zones from Earth are a bit irrelevant now, isn’t it?” Hana laughed, and briefly brought her glass to her lips. “I held back the rum and watered it down. I don’t like working drunk. Do you want me to mix you something?”

 

Matt shook his head. “It’s... probably not a good idea to put a drink in my hand right now. We’ll be here all night - or day. Or whatever.” He shrugged, smiling slightly.

 

Hana chewed on some ice from her drink. “If there’s one thing I miss about Earth, it’s feeling the sunlight on a nice, warm day. I feel like I’m growing paler. One more moment on this ship, and I’ll probably start glowing neon, too.”

 

She was greeted with a scoff. “I think the Ship - the Neuromancer, if you will - is beautiful.” Matt insisted. He sat straight up in his chair, prouder than a peacock.

 

“I suppose you’d notice me if I turned into a wallflower, then.” The girl burst into another giggle, pressing her head against her forearm. Hana was starting to feel a buzz, but couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol making her skin tingle.

 

“Indeed,” said Matt, tersely. Hana missed the physical reaction from the man sitting beside her - which was a shame, because half of the thrill of flirting was seeing the rise it elicited in other people.

 

The glass suddenly slipped away from her hands, leaving her fingers cold and wet from condensation. Matt left it in the middle of the table, his lips tightly pulled to one corner.

 

“Hana.” Stern blue eyes bore through her skull. “You’re OK, yeah?”

 

She didn’t answer him right away.

 

Some days ago, the engine exhaust needed repairs beyond the Ship’s software parameters, and Hana had volunteered to resolve it. Matt helped her into her space suit, and vowed to keep watch over his speaker. Kinzie had done a fair job hiding their Ship from the Zin intent on overthrowing the new Emperor-Saint, but no one anticipated the impetuous rebel ship which attacked them on sight. Luckily, whoever was commanding the hostile spacecraft was an idiot - it couldn’t match their Ship’s firepower, and its only advantage was the faulty engine which left the Saints sitting ducks. Despite this, it was still enough for Hana’s near undoing.

 

During the firefight, a stray laser hit the computer module on Hana’s flight suit. Communications to the hold and her oxygen supply system shut down. The only thing that kept Hana alive was the gravity stasis maintained by her suit infrastructure.

 

First, she felt light headed. She barely registered the red jets of light streaking across the dark canvas of space. The burning specks of helium and hydrogen light years away from her started fuzzing in her vision like an antacid pill in water. Unadulterated panic struck Hana when her lungs began to burn. Her chest threatened to collapse and wrap itself around her stomach. Then her consciousness slipped away, like her brain had told her muscles that it was time for a pleasant nap.

 

Hana didn’t know when or how the Saints knew that something had been amiss. She could only remember waking up with a deep, gasping breath in the cargo bay, strewn atop Matt’s couch. She recalled his wide, fearful eyes - the same eyes expecting a response from her now - looming over the Boss’ shoulder while the Saints leader administered CPR.

 

Hana licked her lips, the daiquiri’s citrusy tang renewing on her tongue. “I’ll admit, I could be better.” She cocked one shoulder. There was little else that she wanted to tell him without burdening him with her horror.

 

Predictably, her response didn’t seem to suffice. Matt ran his hand through his raven hair, slipping his palm behind his neck. She saw his fingers dig into the tight muscle there and could not help but wonder how soft his pale skin must have felt..

 

“I should have paid closer attention.” Matt blurted after a shaky breath.

 

“Don’t -”

 

“You don’t understand.” He squeezed her palm under his glove. “I had control of the situation. There was nothing that wasn’t within my reach. I just... I suppose I foolishly let the important things slip out of my mind.”

 

Hana didn’t blame Matt if she had slipped out of his mind. The hold must have been utter chaos during the attack. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten her, maybe she hadn’t received his desperate calls - her malfunctioned suit was entirely to blame. Hana wanted to comfort him - but knowing his pride, she knew he was too busy licking his wounds on his own to accept her sympathy.

 

She placed her hand on his shoulder and endeavored to say something, anything to fill the silence, but Matt cut her short with a shake of his head.

 

“If you’ll indulge me,” he said, “I think I’ll have that drink now.”


	4. Testing Grounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hana evaluates the direction her relationship with Matt has taken after an eventful evening, as well as whether the Ship can withstand the mayhem Johnny creates with some new technology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This falls with my canon timeline; it takes place some time after 'A Matter of Pride'. Thanks to both Chyrstis and Hunnybadgerv for taking the time to beta this chapter <3

Hana idly chewed on the bottom end of her pen, the dimples in her cheeks growing more pronounced as she savored the heat of the explosions blaring behind the safety glass. From a small observation box, she watched Johnny wreak havoc in the Mother Ship’s test chamber below with a grenade launcher she modded with alien technology.

As Johnny rounded a corner in the chamber’s obstacle course, a chuckle rumbling behind his Cheshire cat grin, Hana noticed that a particular blast he made had stronger hints of blue to it. Her pen quickly connected to her clipboard, taking note of the results. There were several ideas floating in her head that explained the higher temperature (she’d assembled the grenades from scratch, for one) but her thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected visitor.

“I really, really hope this isn’t the chamber with the AI target that took me four hours to debug.”

Hana did a double take over her shoulder and almost jumped when she’d processed Matt leaning over for a good look at her writing. He looked intrigued, with his eyes squinting and his bottom lip pulled taut to one corner, but Hana doubted he understood a stroke of the kanji in blue ink.

“The program revision is saved on your drive, isn’t it?” she responded, lacking her characteristic, bubbly lilt. The flat tone that came with it, however, was unintentional.

The proximity of his breath against her ear unnerved her - it reminded Hana of particular memories that she hadn’t decided were relished or regrettably recollected. It was hard to miss how his tapered brows lifted while Hana sidled away and made a gap between each others’ personal spaces. She pulled her clipboard to her chest, her elbows tightly tucked against her sides, and pretended that Johnny’s trigger happy trail down a series of targets had her rapt attention.

“Of course it is.” The strap fastening Matt’s PDA ruffled against his suit zipper while he crossed his arms over his chest. There was a short, shaky sigh in the middle of his reply - one that failed to appear aloof. “But in the time that it will take me to repair and reprogram all those robots, I could make scores of new programming and simulations for the Ship.”

Hana smiled but said nothing. His purposeful demeanor made her stomach flip, and she felt it unwise to scramble after the words scattered all over the floor of her mind. Not when Matt appeared to have started his own quiet study of her behavior.

“You’re testing the modulated grenade launcher? With the improved heat remission?”

His change of topic was met with an awkward nod. “It seems to be working smoothly, even with the work Johnny is putting it through. I’m simultaneously testing a new grenade model that accompanies it - I modified the explosive compound so it’s more stable in the presence of Element Uno. It looks like it has potential, but I will probably have to do a few more trial runs with the new compound before - ”

“Look...I’d like to say something.” Matt shifted his feet towards her, and the echo of rubber sliding against titanium flooring rang off the walls with a chiming, metallic note. His thumb played with a fabric fold above his forearm. “I don’t regret what happened. And I know it wasn’t well, exactly ideal but...”

Hana clasped her hand over her mouth and stifled a giggle.

“Am I amusing you?” Matt frowned.

Truthfully, Hana was as uneasy as he was, but she always found it endearing when Matt dropped his defenses around her. His candor was characteristic, but it often came with an ego worn and flaunted like a rich, velvet cloak. What she liked was when it slipped off his shoulders and left her with the sweet, awkward, and passionate man she was beginning to grow enamored with.

“It’s nothing like that,” Hana answered him, but didn’t elaborate the cause behind her sudden amusement. It faded quickly as she tapped a finger over the board’s metal clip.

“Tell me why you’re acting so strangely, then.”

It was a demand Matt gave her, not a request. That further disquieted her. Hana had spent nearly seventeen years of her life having her father puppeteer her thoughts and choices with tight strings. It was enough time for her to develop defenses against people wanting a stake over her mind and will. But she didn’t know how to cope with the thought of Matt being as familiar with her skin as she did - of him being intimately aware of the precise curve of her hip, or the small freckles that lined the back of her knee. He couldn’t have learned the entire map of her body in that one night, and, even if she had consented to his touch, the idea that he had a semblance of control over her physical being disturbed her.

Hana walked forward and untucked his hand from behind his elbow; his knuckles fell over her palm without any resistance. “I just have a lot in my head right now.”

Matt’s gaze faltered. “... I was at least better than your first, wasn’t I?”

That earned him a laugh - yet not a derisive one.

“I wouldn’t make the comparison. It doesn’t matter.” Especially when Hana’s last memory of that particular boy was his lifeless body stashed in the back of her father’s car. It always sent a chill down her spine, and in this particular moment it inspired a nightmare of what would happen if the Boss did ever restore Earth successfully - what her father and his yakuza associates would do if they ever found out about Matt.

“I still need to know something.” Matt’s thumb slipped past her fingers and travelled up her wrist, right over the vein crossing where her hand and arm intersected. Surely, he must have felt her racing pulse. “Do you think we made a mistake?”

Hana’s mouth went dry as she failed yet again to respond. She redirected his question back at him, striving too hard to make it look candid. “Do you?”

“I know we might have moved too quickly, and that it wasn’t quite the best way to test the parameters of our relationship...”

Her eyes sparkled at his use of programming jargon, and then Hana’s emotions flipped back to a serious side as Matt finished his statement.

“...but I don’t regret a thing. Not one bit.” The hacker let their hands fall together, and he too gave a slight squeeze as his fingers hooked under hers.

It should have reassured her, but it just made Hana feel guilty for doubting him. Granted, her insecurities were still there, but his display of affection worked off some of their rougher edges. Maybe over time, perhaps a longer period of time, when their relationship wasn’t in the midpoint of friendship and who knows what, these fears would be sandpapered away from existence.

Hana let her fingertips linger for a while before she pulled away completely. “I don’t think I’m comfortable continuing this conversation when...”

Accompanied by a series of blasts, the man in the test chamber let out a throat ripping ‘FUCK YEAH!’, demonstrating Hana’s point as if on cue. It prompted a smirk on Matt’s face while he peered through the safety glass.

“By the way, I think I might have to reschedule that MST3K show you wanted to show me today.” The odd TV show title still didn’t fit the usual list of phonemes Hana was used to; she found herself correcting her pronunciation under her breath.

“... It’s not because of our talk, though.” she quickly added.

Matt chuckled against her cheek before he planted a soft kiss against it. “I understand. I’d also expect a long afternoon of repairs after letting Johnny Gat beta test my equipment.”

A large jet of flame licked against the corner of the room window, which violently shook in the wake of a grenade that had blown through one of the panels some feet below them. Johnny emerged from the resulting smoke, fixing his lopsided glasses with a look of ecstasy plastered all over his face.

“Yes,” Hana sighed, rubbing her temple. “Quite a long afternoon, really.”


	5. Isn't It Stunning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt compares Earth and Zin technology by showing off his PDA. It quickly turns personal and awkward when he agrees to let Hana use it for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Falls within my canon timeline, and based off a fluff prompt that Chyrstis sent me on Tumblr. This chapter is unbeta'd, so mind the occasional mess every now and then x)

“Matt?” Hana held the speaker button on her headset. “I need you to meet me in the Bridge. There’s a monitor repair I’m trying to resolve but the processes don’t seem to be responding.”

“I’m on my way.” She heard his long-winded sigh fizzle through her audio piece. It’d taken Hana quite a while not to take his usual impatience personally. No one could easily wrestle Matt’s focus away from his programming without facing tough protest. She was curious why he even responded at all. Considering how often Hana asked him for help. Sometimes the help wasn’t actually needed. Sometimes it was just a thinly veiled excuse to spend time with him. 

Regardless, Hana didn’t have to wait long; the Bridge doors promptly slid open. Matt marched into the room with great purpose, and the synthetic azure light from interfaces decked around the Bridge glowed against his flight suit. 

“What have you figured out so far?” he asked, taking the seat next to the tools Hana had scattered next to a monitor on the room’s port side.

“I’m getting no response from the touch screen interface.” said Hana, errant auburn locks sliding over her forehead as she bobbed her head from side to side. She lifted herself off her knees, removing the dust that collected there with a few elegant swipes. “I reconnected the circuit from the motherboard to the digitizer, but it still won’t pick up voltage even as I press against the film.” 

She tapped the screen to prove her point. Computer technology wasn’t quite Hana’s forte, but some of her engineering know-how overlapped with Matt’s area of expertise.

“Did you take the time to make sure the adhesives holding the wiring dried properly?” 

“There was a lot of time considering how cold it is in the Bridge.” Hana remarked.

“Let me take a look.” Matt slipped himself off his chair and bent under the monitor shelf; his raven hair and his hands disappeared into the open cubby containing the wiring equipment. Hana heard metal and wire shuffle around as he analyzed her work, and she fought off the uneasy feeling in her stomach as she waited for Matt to pick off what could be her inexcusable mistake.

“Everything seems to be in order so far...” Matt mused, possibly to himself more than to his companion. Yet he still busied himself with his inspection, and the wait for him to finish seemed to double in length with every passing minute. The heat seemed to be leaving the room, causing Hana’s shoulders to shake.

A thought occurred in Hana’s head. “...I didn’t check the conductor.” Her palm covered her mouth, but couldn’t conceal the red blossoming her cheek. She heard something click and snap under the monitor shelf, and then Matt came up with a small metal part in his hand.

“Yup. There’s an oxide layer on it.” said Hana, eyeing the orange rust crusting part of its surface.

“I can’t believe it was that simple.” Matt groaned. “You would think that Zin technology would be superior in its way considering its dominance over the galaxy. This is no more than borderline Earth standards.” He handed the conductor to Hana, who placed it in her pocket and reminded herself to repair it.

“You’d think that the prototypes I built for the Zin should have been ancient history to them.” Hana added. She didn’t fondly remember her months as a slave providing research data on Earth technology in Zinyak’s labs.

“You would think, indeed. My PDA is nearly more powerful than some of the technology on this ship.” Matt was referring to the device strapped to his right arm, its holographic buttons emitting their own neon blue light. 

Hana didn’t have to ask for a demonstration. The hacker started flipping through applications on the screen and explaining the functions of each as if he ran off a script. Every now and then, when there was a particularly interesting quirk or feature he wanted to show off, Matt pulled his arm closer to the girl smiling and nodding next to him. He overwhelmed Hana with the number of windows he opened, but she couldn’t deny that the whole showcase was quite impressive, if not rehearsed. Nothing lagged when Matt’s fingers moved - the PDA updated and rendered so quickly the animations were seamless. Hana recognized some applications from some of the smartphones she’d previously used, but she gradually recognized that Matt customized their features to his liking - and even in a way that outshone their original versions.

“That’s impressive,” Hana breathed, too amazed by the display to say much else. 

“It is quite stunning, isn’t it?” Matt chuckled, beaming pridefully. “I assembled the device myself from parts I ordered off the Internet. The funds I laundered while leading the Deckers ensured that I needn’t have spared any expense.”

Hana’s eyes flitted towards several folders Matt hadn’t opened - most of them with conspicuous labels. “Do you mind if I have a look around?” She batted her eyelashes. “I just want to see how smoothly it works. I think operating it myself would be quite thrilling.”

Finding the right, honeyed words to draw someone to Hana’s whim came naturally to her. She always opted for half truths - words that genuinely expressed how she felt, but never alluded to the purpose behind them. The target at hand was an easy picking - Matt drank in praise like a man stuck in the Sahara for days. He stammered as he contemplated his permission. But he quickly acquiesced, standing rigidly beside her while holding out his arm.

“It stays on my person at all times. And you get five minutes - consider yourself fortunate.” Matt faced the screen towards her.

A palm daintily clasped of Matt’s right elbow; the bump on his throat move up and down as he swallowed. Hana took her sweet time browsing the programs she had been shown for good measure - and then immediately pounced on the folder shortcut labeled ‘IMPORTANT NOTES.’

What Matt didn’t seem to know (and what Hana had learned from her self defense classes) was that she had a slight physical advantage from his position. A little sideways push against his elbow, and Matt’s shoulder would be forced to move back to relieve the pressure against the humerus bone in his arm. Regardless of how valiantly he tried to fight back or pull away, or that the device wobbled with his flailing arm, Hana could still peruse through his PDA as she pleased.

“Don’t look at that!” Matt screeched next to Hana’s ear, his free hand trying to pry her away. But the girl indulged in her mischief, scrolling through the various documents stored she’d found in his digital treasure trove. She wasn’t surprised by the plethora of fanfiction notes and meta, nor by the previews of hardware specifications Matt had in several files.

One document was unlabelled, save for a small little exclamation mark centered over its little page icon. Hana bounced on her heels with a flippant smile, the twin braids cascading her shoulder swaying to and fro. “I wonder what you have hidden in this one!” she coquettishly mused.

“NO DON’T - ”

Hana tapped the icon. A horrified squeal drained through Matt’s lips; his soul trailed behind the last note ripped from his throat.

The nerves behind Hana’s shoulder blades broke out in a crescendo of light waves across her skin. Narrow, hazel eyes squinted at the blue text on the screen: 

‘bobs her head before she elaborates on something. avoids pineapples - possibly allergic?’

“... What is this?” Hana cautiously asked Matt. 

“Th-they’re character notes!” Matt stammered in a piping voice. “For, for a scene!” His wide blue eyes darted across the room, feigning interest in everything but the short lady holding him hostage.

“Right...”

It wasn’t hard to call his bullshit, Hana thought. The first little note Matt had taken was her trademark - she’d done it while explaining the monitor repairs just minutes ago. The second was an odd one, but the nagging thought in her head quickly connected to something she remembered. That afternoon, Shaundi brought several Hawaiian pizzas back with her from time travelling. By the end of the meal, Hana had picked off so many little pineapple cubes off her pizza slices that her fingers glistened in oil.

“It’s nothing, I swear!” Matt abruptly pulled back his arm and ran a hand through his hair - he seemed surprised by the sweat lining his forehead. The thin, lanky legs holding him upright shuffled him towards the door but were shaking like jelly. 

“You know...” Hana felt conscious of herself, straining her temple and resisting the urge to move her head. “Pineapples make me break out in hives when I eat them, sometimes.”

Matt nodded his head furiously, his sentences streaming out in a short, panicked breath. “That’s good to know. I ah, I have a simulation builder running and - and a scanner and such. I’ll catch you later.” His hip banged against the chair closest to the sliding doors. If Matt had stayed for a second longer, or looked behind as he gracelessly bolted down the hallway stairs, he might have caught the small, twinkling little smile Hana slowly started wearing.


	6. And the wanting comes in waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their work and school commitments have kept them apart for two years, Matt takes a temporary leave from MI6 and visits Hana in America. During their last day together, he grows anxious about the future of their long-distance relationship and plans an impromptu gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during my Domestic AU, before Matt and Hana get married. Hana's in America studying Engineering and Chemistry; Matt's working at MI6 in England. 
> 
> A big thanks to Chy and Celeste for their wonderful beta work - I don't think I could have done this piece justice without them. And also a thank you to Badger for prompting the fic on Tumblr, and providing some pep talk while I agonized over writing this fic. The fic is based on the fluff prompt "The stars look especially lovely tonight;" what I ended up with is quite melancholic, but I tried to weave in some fluff near the end. I kept thinking about the Decemberist song, "And the Wanting Comes In Waves" while I wrote this, so I borrowed it as the title for this chapter.
> 
> This chapter is also changing the rating to Explicit, for there's some smut/NSFW material involved here as well. AND it's long - nearly 4500 words! O_O

“You’ve been awfully quiet.”

Matt blinked rapidly as he looked up from his sausage and tomato rotini. Normally, he could drown his nerves with a glass of wine like the Chianti next to his plate, but now only the sight of Hana across the table sated anything. They ate outside at a small Italian restaurant on campus for dinner, the lights from inside casting an amber light over the patio and Hana’s silhouette. Her head cocked to her right, and her knuckles tucked under her chin as she studied him from his jacket buttons to his eyes. Luckily, she hadn’t noticed that Matt was hiding his mobile under the table, typing a lengthy draft into the SMS feed.

“Well?” she poked at him, not quite upset by his slow response.

Matt shook his head, and tucked his mobile away in his pants pocket. “I was just thinking, dear.” 

Specifically, about his flight back to England in the coming morning; it must have been on Hana’s mind as well. It'd been two years since they had last seen each other in person; his earlier, requests for leave had been constantly rejected. Matt’s superiors must have been exasperated by his final petition. When they had finally granted his two weeks he’d been sent packing less than a few days after getting the green light that he so desperately wanted. 

He opted for a chance to lighten the mood. "I still believe there would have been time for me to make dinner at home. I only have a few articles of clothing left to pack anyway." Matt thought of the lasagna recipe his mother had taught him when he was younger - it was one of the few pleasant memories he had of her. And he regretted missing the romantic (if rather messy) opportunity of showing Hana how to roll pasta dough. That, and also the chance to dust flour out of her hair afterwards.

Metal clinked against ceramic as Hana’s forked twirled up her pesto fettucini. "But I haven't been able to show you around campus all week. Besides, the stars look especially lovely tonight, and it wouldn't hurt for you to spend some vacation time outside. At least for a little while." She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "I like it when you dress this nicely, too."

The Italian place was modest, but the two of them always liked to dress their best when they dined out. That night, Matt wore a grey designer jacket, the middle parted asymmetrically with neat diagonal seams going across the front. A turquoise ascot was tucked under his black undershirt. Hana herself had an extensive closet she often loved to show off - she dazzled in a smart black dress cutting off mid-thigh with short tucked sleeves, and a neckline dipping down in a teardrop shape over her collarbone..

In retrospect, dining quietly under the moon was equally enchanting as it would have making dinner at home. The quaintness of their date wasn't helping him contend with his yearning to stay with her, however. .. Even if the evening chill made him want to scramble back behind his keyboard, nothing seemed more perfect than forgoing the flight and keeping her company under the stars. And so, when she squeezed his hand - a gesture Hana practiced when she wanted to be comforting - Matt ardently brushed his lips against her knuckles.

Hana had a notorious habit of letting her sight underestimate how much she could gorge on delicious food a - like usual, she had ordered too large of a portion. Only streaks of tomato sauce and melted cheese decorated Matt’s plate by the end of their meal, but Hana packed up the leftovers she couldn’t finish before paying the bill.

Before she’d insisted on taking the tab herself tonight, Matt suspected the gesture would be used as leverage to coerce him into doing something he wasn’t fond of. And he was right - to his slight chagrin they walked home instead of calling a taxi. Fearing her criminal past would catch up to her, Hana didn’t like roaming around at night, Yet, to keep his visit entertaining, Matt noticed that she’d sacrificed some precaution towards certain activities, even if it enabled her nasty habit of double-checking her surroundings every five minutes.

They didn’t talk much as they strolled past the bookstores, coffee shops, and cafes lining the street. Every now and then, Hana idly pointed at places she frequented with friends, and it amazed Matt how well she’d networked since returning to school. It was comforting that she wasn’t alone while Matt was off working; he remembered the sad schoolyard stories that she’d imparted to him every now and then under the sheets, or during their video conversations. 

Knowing that she wasn’t lonely also left him feeling slightly envious. Matt wasn’t sure if it was because Hana had people she could rely on in meat space that weren’t him or that those people had the privilege of physically involving her in their daily lives.

As they turned down the street towards the dormitories, Matt recollected the time they first discussed having a long-distance relationship. Hana had recommitted herself to school in Boston after the Saints restored Earth with time travel, while Matt returned to his duties at MI6. She hadn’t had much success transferring to another university in Europe, but she vehemently forbade Matt from hacking her into the University of Cambridge’s records. They remained apart while Hana finished school, and despite their regular Skype chats Matt wasn’t comfortable with the distance at all.

Feeling his anxiety return with a vengeance, Matt quickly dug his hand into his pocket and grabbed his mobile again. He murmured to himself, sliding his thumb over the plastic backing, and memorized several lines he wanted to record on his device once they got home.

The uneasiness plaguing Matt’s mind came naturally; he already knew what it was like getting heartbroken over a failed, long-distance relationship . It had involved the girl he’d left along with his Decker flags back in Steelport. That particular disaster was entirely his fault, considering how he had selfishly lead his ex along in thinking he’d come back to see her.

Now, Matt was doing his hardest not to repeat his mistakes with Hana. Thinking about how easily she too could leave him for school made him tighten his grip around her shoulders, and he shivered more as they strolled under the street lights.

The same, pervasive loneliness he’d felt while apart from Sarah - his old Steelport flame - had returned and stayed with Matt for the past two years. Sometimes, while surveying through security camera footage for work, Matt toyed with the idea of adding an extra feed on his laptop from her campus’ traffic cameras. Maybe, he’d pray, he might catch Hana running down the intersection towards the lecture hall, and smile knowing she was alright.

Crossing an intersection half a mile away from her home, Matt quickly took note of the street names and which direction the closest traffic camera was facing.

\---

Hana’s apartment was a cream colored four storey building, less than a decade old, with shiny glass panes lining the narrow balconies over the entrance. They walked along the ribbed cement steps towards the door, passing a red Atlanta parked in front of the building.

“Meaghan should still be at the library working on her thesis,” Hana said while punching in the door code, referring to the graduate student sharing her apartment. “We can stay up all night if you want. Watch a movie? Write roleplay? Take our clothes off? ... Continue texting on your phone?” Her voice gradually got slower with each suggestion as she struggled for Matt’s attention.

Matt’s broad and lanky shoulders jumped in surprise when Hana tugged at his wrist. “Sorry, dear. I was, well, writing something down. You’ll see it soon, I promise.” he said, quickly shutting off the phone before Hana could sneak a look. The pre-emptive dismissal tipped off that whatever Matt was tapping onto the device was important, but Hana didn’t press him further on the matter. Rather, she kept a gentle grip on his arm, leading him across the foyer and up the set of black steps towards her door on the apartment’s third level.

Tea was served not long after Hana unlocked her door. In the kitchen, she prepared Earl Grey with vanilla and cream, leaving Matt in the living room with whatever he’d put off on his phone. Having his attention divided upset her, considering how limited their time together was now. The coming morning would be a significant moment for her; Hana had seen many people leave from her life, and they seldom ever returned to her. As much as she’d grown independent in Boston, her deepest fear was that her father’s old men were haunting those connected to her now, just as they did with the children that she’d never been able to befriend for long in her past.

Reservations aside, Hana left a kiss on his cheek, setting two saucers and cups brimming with tea atop a rectangular glass coffee table.

“Are you going to pack the rest of your things tonight or tomorrow morning?” she asked, sinking next to Matt onto the blue polyester couch. Thinking about his flight back home made her edgy (she’d imagined his plane engine getting rigged with stolen, military grade explosives too many times for her to count) but her distress thinned her mental list of conversation topics.

Matt gave her a passing glance, his thumb still dancing over his touch screen. “I suppose I can do it tomorrow morning, if you have something planned for the rest of the evening,” he suggested, draping an arm behind her and over the couch.

There was a copy of Paprika waiting to be played on Hana’s laptop; she’d envisioned them falling asleep together in the living room with the comfort of cinema and tea. Though, now the plan seemed to be going out the window as she felt more tired than she anticipated, and Matt’s lingering distraction was starting to put her off.

“What exactly is it that you’re hiding from me in there?” Hana tapped at Matt’s cell phone, trying to fight her sagging mood. “Why can’t I see what you’re doing now?”

“B-Because.” Matt pressed his knees together, retracting from his relaxed position. “It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Hana repeated with a bounce. That improved her mood considerably. “Well, when am I going to get it?”

“Soon,” said Matt, though his voice wavered. “I hate to admit it, but it’s rather unplanned - it came to me in the spur of the moment.”

“Do you mind me turning on a movie then?”

Matt didn’t object, so Hana treaded across the grey striped carpet and took her laptop from her corner desk. She wondered what Matt had planned, while connecting an HDMI cable between the laptop and her TV. A late delivery? Fanfiction? During their shopping trip a few days ago, Matt had already covered most of her expenses despite spending hours sitting and waiting while Hana perused through lingerie and dresses. On top of that, Matt had given her a precious silver chain with a small, star shaped, topaz-encrusted pendant that doubled as a USB stick.

“You keep running around school with your laptop tucked under your arm,” he had observed as he unveiled the gift, a clever smile lighting his face. “I thought I’d help you make your files more portable and fashionable at the same time.”

While Matt’s generosity could come in leaps and bounds, it was always conditional. Pressing the hacker for it only earned you half of his effort. Early in their relationship, Hana had learned it was best when he came to her of his own volition - when inspiration struck him. As their relationship grew more romantic his showers of affection grew more intense and meaningful, but in the moment she never could resist prodding at whatever secret Matt was hiding.

After a momentary blue screen, the desktop image transferred to the TV screen; Hana hit play on the video player and claimed her spot next to Matt again.

“This is one of my favorite movies, you know,” Hana told him, as an animated, red-head zipped down the streets of Tokyo on a moped.

“I’ll pay attention, I promise.” One of Matt’s pale fingers from his outstretched arm twirled around a lock of her hair; the auburn color was fading back into her natural black.

“But you’re still going to be texting while you watch?” Hana asked, with a frown.

“Oh please -” His start didn’t impress her at all. “- You’ll appreciate this when I’m done. It does take time to perfect this sort of thing, you know.”

“But you said it was unplanned!” Hana swatted his thigh, shaking her head as she rested against his shoulder. On screen, the red-head was now zooming across the sky on a rocket.

“You’re tetchy now, but I know you’ll be impressed once I send it to you. And pleasantly moved.” Matt pressed a kiss on her forehead, leaving a hint of blue over her brow. “I promise it’ll be the best thing anyone’s ever given you.”

\---

Hana had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, right as it came to a nightmarish carnival scene. Considering how much they had been on their feet in the past two weeks, Matt couldn’t put much blame on her for nodding off. Once he’d heard her breathing soft and deep against his jacket, Matt had shut off her devices and carried her to bed. (That had been a momentary struggle for him, even with her light frame; Asha had moved him to cardio training after his sad attempts at muscle build up, so he was ill-prepared for such a task.) (?)Both of them had agreed that in the case where one wanted to show off a movie or TV show, the other wouldn’t look ahead for spoilers. Half the fun of watching anything with Hana was gauging each others’ responses.

He’d slipped out of his nice clothes and into a loose black shirt and red plaid pajama trousers. However, Matt tucked Hana into bed with her black dress on; he’d learned from a previous experience that being touched, let alone undressing her while she was asleep made her uncomfortable. There was no arguing she wouldn’t mind him moving her somewhere more appropriate for sleeping, though.

On the other hand, Matt did not get so much of a wink - perhaps three or four hours of sleep at the most. When he came to again, it was around six AM; his flight was shy of past afternoon, but there was still an open suitcase on Hana’s bedroom floor needing his attention. It was tempting to go back and make some final changes to his mobile project, but most of his clothes left over Hana’s dresser were already half-folded, if not just jumbled around a bit. Time passed slowly while he smoothed out wrinkles and piled layer after layer of dress shirts and tight pants into the crowded space. He did not savor the touch of finality in the short metal click sealing his luggage together.

After brushing his teeth, Matt found Hana sitting in bed with the green cotton sheets collected around her waist. She rubbed her eyes and greeted him with a weary smile..

“Are you ready?” Hana scooched over and wrapped her arms over his shoulders, once he’d seated himself at the side of her bed. The sweet, gentle kiss she planted behind Matt’s ear sent a tingle down his spine. Suddenly he was hyper aware of her intoxicating pomegranate scent and the swirling lace motifs circling her thigh and lining the top of her stockings.

“Not quite. I just need to shower and get dressed. Though I think there is still plenty of time to fool around, if you like.” He angled his head towards her, smirking against her chin.

“What about your surprise? Your phone?”

Matt fidgeted with the buttons on Hana’s sleeves, disregarding all but the curve of her collarbone. “I finished it last night while you slept. I’ll show you later,” he explained softly, trailing his finger down her arm. The lines stored on his mobile memory drive weren’t quite meeting his standards just yet, and thus Matt hesitated to show her what he’d accomplished.

“Later?” Hana winced, tucking her nose against his shoulder blade. Her soft, warm hand sneaked under his shirt and rested over his stomach.

“Later.” Matt nipped at the juncture of her neck, then turned around completely and pushed her back against the mattress.

She squirmed while his teeth repeatedly grazed against her skin, only hard enough to tease it red. “Can’t you tell me what it is, at least?” A sigh slipped from her lips as Matt grazed his palm along her inner thigh. And then a groan, as Matt tossed his hair aside and met her with a grin.

Matt was already hard when he peeled off her stockings and underwear, and they shared a laugh when the stretchy dark fabric snagged against her toe. With a pang in his chest, Matt committed to memory the sight of Hana’s hips bucking forward as he parted her legs and pleasured her. He revelled in how her mouth felt against his nipple, over his jugular, against the back of his hand. A hiss escaped him when she mirrored his ministrations for a while and wrapped her lips around him. There was a lovely shade of pinkish red flushing down her chest, and Matt saw it travelled well beyond her breasts as he unzipped her dress.

Although he shucked off his pants in a hurry, Matt had every intent of prolonging the moment for the sake of how long their next chance with physical intimacy would probably be. Regardless of what time they had left, he moved deep and slow, letting her grab and pull his shirt while he heightened the friction between their bodies. Fighting the tight ache pooling inside him, he worked out as many sounds from her as she could. In their lovemaking, Hana often veered towards the quiet side, but the loveliest gasps and shallow breaths came when she started reaching her peak. Once her soft sighs started growing needier, her lacquered purple nails skimming against his bicep, Matt mercilessly tested her by pulling back and flipping her onto her belly. He was rewarded with a delighted little squeak as he thrust back into her..

“You better call me once you hit the terminal,” Hana warned, bracing his movement’s impact on her elbows. “Say you’ll do it.”

“I will, love,” Matt promised. He pushed back her hair and breathed against the back of her neck.

She looked over her shoulder, tentatively biting her lip. “Finish me? Please?”

He chuckled with a low, suggestive timbre unusual of his regular tenor. “Not yet.” He laughed as Hana slapped his side. When it was Matt’s turn as the dominant in bed he took advantage of the position as wantonly as he could, all too happy to show how capable he was of pleasing her after an insatiable round of teasing. During one memorable night, he’d pushed her into swearing like a sailor.

He didn’t expect that she’d shift the tables on him. Pushing herself against his chest, Hana rolled them both over until Matt was flat on his back. She immediately mounted him, riding him hard until she cried out, a shudder thundering through her body. Matt kept a tight grip on her hips, kept her rolling over him, until his own guttural moan thundered in his ears.

The first thing Matt registered after his orgasm was Hana’s light, breathy whisper faint and warm against his ear. “May I have my surprise now?”

Those soft, rose pink lips of hers were insistent against his jaw, and every tender peck pushed Matt to the point where he could no longer deny what she’d been waiting for all night.

Minding his sense of propriety, Matt gathered some of the sheets around him before he stretched over the bed and grabbed his mobile from the side table drawer. He held his breath for an unnaturally long time, his vision blurring over the screen.

“I’m not sure if it’s good enough.” The omission seemed to suck the life out of him. But his thumb slid over the send button. Three seconds later, Hana’s phone played a whimsical bell chime from her dresser, indicating his message had went through.

He watched as she scrolled through the message, digesting every line he’d agonized over while wrestling his endless insecurities for hours. Hana wiggled herself so her head rested over her pillow. After an excited little quirk, Hana’s brow lowered progressively as she became transfixed with what Matt had written. Her fingertip, which first rested over her bottom lip, moved with the rest of her hand as she gingerly tucked her messy hair under her ear. Her knees, idly moving together in small and animated swings, subtly stilled.

Seldom did Matt Miller ever openly admit his weaknesses, or the times when he felt vulnerable. He saw - nay, knew he had a brilliant mind, but privately acknowledged his social graces (or relative lack thereof) kept him an open target for ridicule. As a boy, he lashed out at his peers and rebelled against his mentors - his delinquency expelled him from grammar school. But from his briefly privileged education, Matt had learned a rather special method of venting his fears and frustrations in private.

“You... wrote me a poem?” Hana asked him delicately, clutching her mobile to her chest. There was a sort of reverential glow in her hazel eyes.

“I... I went through this phase after grammar school.” Matt started slowly, letting his nerves cool before he let his thoughts spill out in a fumbling mess. “The only lessons I appreciated before I... quit, were my poetry lessons. And I was sort of banged up and miffed after leaving the way I did, so I began writing in verse.” 

Calling it a phase due to a lack of a better word seemed sacrilegious against Matt’s quasi-religious attachment with his ego - he might as well have tacked that chapter of his life as his ‘exploration with goth poetry’ (and hell - it certainly wasn’t that at all.) Poetry was a quiet hobby of his, for it often remind him of the pompous instructors who’d pushed him into doing it in the first place. That, and his writing habits as a fourteen-year-old boy conditioned his poetic muse to strike when he was his gloomiest, at the peak of his emotional distress.

“Anyway, as I was saying last night, I was thinking a lot - about us. And well -”

Hana squeezed his hand - tightly. Almost as if he were dangling off a precipice that had been worn knife-sharp by his apprehension. She needed him to know that she was there and holding onto him for dear life. “It’s all here, right? The things you wanted to say?”

 

Matt trembled. “Yes.” Dipping so his thin arms framed Hana’s torso, he leaned against the trail her hands made up his chest and around his cheeks. 

She bussed the tip of his nose. “I love you. And I’m not going anywhere.” Then Hana pulled him towards her, until they were close enough to have shared the same breath. Another two years - the time it took for Hana to finish the rest of her degree - was far too long a wait to feel her against him, have her next to him like this again.

Fighting the quaver in his throat, Matt caressed the crook of her neck. “I love you too. Though, I suppose I can only return the second metaphorically.” 

“Not for long.” Hana reassured, running her fingers through his hair. While his own tactless comment left Matt unimpressed with himself, his love seemed nonplussed. “You promised to call me, remember? And I’m saving the poem on my phone, to remind me how incredibly cute you are. Gosh, you wrote your feelings for me in verse!” 

Quite obviously, there wasn’t any malice in her amusement as Hana burrowed her wide, bubbly grin into his neck, her toes scrunched over his calves. “There was rhyming and everything!” she giggled, her mirth growing infectious.

“You can’t show anyone what I wrote you. You hear me?” With his thumb and a finger, Matt lifted Hana’s chin so that they tenderly met eye to eye. “It’s between you and me. No one else can know what I said about us. So when you encrypt -”

“I remember how you want me to do it, Matt.” Hana gave him a smooch. It must have been about twenty times that Matt had given her an exposition on file encryption, but he knew he’d feel the scorching heat of hell on Earth if Kinzie stumbled on his literary secret.

\---

They shared the shower, overcoming the urge to stay in her comfortable bed but wound up fooling some more under the warm, cleaning jets of water. Once they’d gotten dressed and applied their cosmetics together, Matt decided to run down to the lobby so he could flag his scheduled taxi along Hana’s busy street. Hana remained with Matt’s luggage in the living room, and she stiffly paced back and forth across her carpet in a tight, black pencil skirt. There was an itch behind her neck she couldn’t ward away. The shoe closet next to the TV set had been left wide open - perhaps because Meaghan must have done a brief run to the apartment for her sneakers before booking it to class. The closet dimensions needed an extra foot width-wise, but damn it - Hana was an engineer, and she could probably hide Matt’s things in there and keep him from going if she had the will to see it through.

But then she heard the taxi cab outside, the bass notes in its rumbling engine all too telling of the vehicle’s age. The clock over the TV set showed she’d been waiting for half an hour for that cab to whisk Matt off to the airport. But it didn’t compare to how long she’d have to wait for another chance to enjoy dinner, a movie, and wake up with him in the morning.

Hana started pulling the roll-on silver suitcase towards the door as her lips moved, reciting the syllables that captured Matt’s love for her in rhyme.


	7. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt gets a video call from Hana over his computer during important MI6 business. While it isn't the time for them to talk, he's completely frustrated by his work and would rather spend time with her than do anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during my Domestic AU, long before 'And the wanting comes in waves.' Written in response to the prompt 'You look incredible in that' sent by Chyrstis at Tumblr. Thanks to Badger as always for her beta work!

Stifling a yawn into the back of his palm, Matt scrolled over the search parameters he’d set up several hours ago and jabbed at his right mouse button again. The same results kept repeating through the night’ he shouldn’t have felt so surprised when they flashed again in front of his bloodshot eyes.

‘ _NO RECENT ACTIVITY FOUND._ ’

Matt had spent countless, long nights red-eyed and fixated on more than a dozen open windows on his laptop before. However, as he kept failing to find the signal he needed over the radio waves, this was a rare occasion in which the only thing Matt wanted to do was give up. The target was a man supposedly conspiring to sell stolen aircraft blueprints to a Venezuelan manufacturer. And damn - he was elusive with his communications. Asha was doing her part by snuffing out all of the target’s known contacts to elicit some sort of desperate reaction, but the thrill of the hunt was waning away. Now, Matt wanted to gouge himself rather than wait another bloody minute for something to turn up. Christ. Maybe the target was the one person involved with the operation getting any sleep, and Matt was wasting his goddamn time.

Grasping both arms of his ergonomic chair, Matt lifted himself up and stretched his tender neck. His bare feet dragged over the hardwood as he meandered from his desk to the door, and then back to the front of his bed. Moving around kept Matt awake, but to make sure he didn’t sleep on his feet he visualized the tracking program he implemented for his work in a different programming language. (If there was still some caffeine left in him, perhaps he could also go the extra mile and think of improving the visual output for his data stream.)

By now, Matt’s ears throbbed from the bass quaking through his headphones. The custom Skullcandy set landed over his goose feather pillow, next to the Nyte Blayde body pillow Santa gave him in space. When he freed himself from the electric beats pulsing from his headphones, Matt felt like he was ripping himself from the safety of his digital realm. He soaked in the monotony of his quiet four-by-six meter bedroom, feeling very human and tired.

Then, as if it were an answer from the heavens, a notification chimed from his laptop. Matt spun around on his heel, almost tripping on his baggy pajama pants. At first he rejoiced, assuming his terrible and endless nights were finally over. He cracked his knuckles, more than eager to slam his target into the cage he and Asha had built for so long. Yet at second glance, Matt realized the notification was not from any of the windows he’d been lurking over all night.

‘ _hm♡ is calling: Accept Invitation?_ ’

A short, hysterical laugh escaped him. Then Matt slapped a hand over his mouth as if he’d caught sight of a sitcom audience, cackling back at him in schadenfreude. In his sleep-deprived state, he’d left his IM status as available. Now Hana was online and requesting a video chat. Even though work should have had higher priority over his time it seemed rude and, to a degree, even heartless to stand up his girlfriend. Matt didn’t want to give the impression that he was angry or upset with her; even waiting some time before hitting the reject button seemed too mean-spirited. In the worst case, he’d leave her to worry over why he couldn’t see her without having the chance to explain himself.

Not long after Matt scrambled up to his chair and accepted the invitation, a new video window popped up on his screen.

“Hello, love!” Matt piped, his voice cracking as he tried to divert from his terrible mood.

Hana waved from her bed, and her enthusiastic movement made her webcam jolt. “You’re still up?” she asked, settling into the colorful owl-print bedsheets. The darkness over London was five hours ahead of Hana’s time zone and edged closer to dawn.

“Yes. I’m actually trying to work right now.”

“Oh.” Hana circled her fingertips over the corner of her laptop, her smile less prevalent than it had been on greeting. “Did you want me to log off?

Matt winced and rubbed the slight stubble along his jaw. “I can still chat for a bit,” he suggested after a pause, though he seemed more intent on convincing himself. Quite aware of the risks surrounding his stupid decision, his heart wouldn’t let him send Hana away, not when it was fluttering at the sight of her.

So Matt continued their conversation, though his mouse stayed over the tracking program window. “Company would be nice for morale, I think. You’re alright, yeah?”

Hana bobbed her head from shoulder to shoulder. “I’ve been fine. Busy, too. I just came home from a late lab project with a partner. The student lab’s been completely booked for three weeks, and we could only get the eight PM slot. Not quite sure I’ll be sleeping much tonight either.”

“Hard lines.” Matt clicked his tongue. Hana tilted her head and drew her brows together - a look which suggested she wasn’t able to decode his sudden use of British jargon. The hacker’s eyes darted to his space bar. “Er... bad luck.”

Hana hummed and nodded. “Spring break is around the corner, though. I just got my last paycheck from my summer internship, so I’m going to splurge and see how many dresses I can add to my collection.”

“Really? You still have a budget for that?” asked Matt, shaking his head.

“I spare no expense on looking my best.” said Hana. She pushed back her red headband, her cheeks puffing while she blew her bangs away from the bridge of her nose.”Though, it was raining today, and my hair is a little frizzy right now. I must look like a complete mess.”

Nothing could be farther from the truth, Matt thought. “You’re absolutely fetching, darling. A sight for sore eyes.” he told Hana, appraising her tight-fitting suspender dress and long-sleeved, black striped shirt. ”I on the other hand... well...”

Matt pulled himself to the oval mirror hanging behind his desk lamp and let out a loud groan. His reflection showed that his racoon eyes had gotten two shades darker overnight. His slick, raven hair was strewn about due to stress and poor hygiene. Save for his clean navy v-neck, Matt was a disaster.

Hana giggled after he let out a lengthy sigh, her finger on the corner of her bottom lip. “Oh come on. You look incredible in that.”

“I appreciate your candor." Matt rolled his eyes, eliciting another laugh.

“I’m here to raise your spirits, remember?” Hana winked. “Work’s been difficult for you too, right?”

Matt nodded, but he couldn’t specify the particular challenges he was going because of his job’s secretive nature. He couldn’t explain that this was the eleventh night he’d spent trying to pinpoint the target’s location. Nor could Matt explain that MI6 was suspicious of his and Asha’s loyalties after they worked with the Saints and expected nothing but success with their mission.

“It’s been trying, despite my best efforts.” Matt scratched the back of his neck and grimaced.

“That, and we haven’t seen each other for so long.” Hana rubbed her knees together and slid her laptop closer to her waist, distorting her video feed.

“I know.” Matt agreed, with a pang of guilt. He shifted in his seat as the tracking program turned up another nil result. “I can’t tell you much, but I have been requesting leave for some time.”

“Don’t worry about it.” said Hana, with a soothing voice. “I’m just happy that I got to see you tonight.”

If it hadn’t been for the body of water separating them, Matt would’ve wrapped his arms around her and shown he felt the same way. He loved how patient and understanding she was regardless of his nightmarish schedule, but there was little he could do to express his appreciation through the webcam. Instead, Matt returned Hana’s tender smile and leaned closer to the screen

“You’ve missed me a lot?” He couldn’t help but let his voice drop, to a register Matt knew transcended through the microphone and travelled down Hana’s spine.

A telltale flush powdered her cheeks. “Of course I have! I’ve thought about you every day.” Hana admitted. She couldn’t quite make eye contact with the screen while she smoothed her skirt over her lap.

“What sort of things did you think about me?” Matt asked, pressing his elbows on his desk. When she gave him an incredulous look, he placed his chin on the back of his hands and cocked an eyebrow.

“Just, you being there beside me whenever I was on the bus? Or sometimes I’d be tuning something up in the workshop and I’d think about you hovering over and scrutinizing its original factory design.” Hana sighed. “The other day I was doing homework in the library, and I remembered that joke you made about communist Java programmers.”

Matt snickered. “The one where they’re terrible at it because they dissolve the class system and let the state control everything?” Even for those unfamiliar to programming, a basic understanding of political ideology kept the joke a clever classic.

“I think everyone in the library was looking at me while I laughed.” said Hana.

“I’d think everyone would turn their heads towards a beautiful girl.” the hacker quipped. “Though, if I had been there you might have a hard time staying quiet. And then when I’d take you home they’d still hear you at the library.”

“Matt!” Hana’s bright teal nails gripped her pillow hard as she beamed into it. “I can’t believe you went there from an innocent conversation.”

“Well...” Matt drawled, trying to maintain his debonair appearance. For a while, a small window next to his computer clock distracted him; he frowned and closed it after finding it was just a request for a software update. “I’ve missed and thought about you a lot, too. Sometimes when I’m working I wish you were ‘on the job’ with me.”

That cheeky euphemism might’ve also gone over Hana’s head, but if she hadn’t kept her face in the pillow she would have seen Matt trembling with a mix of embarrassment and lust as well. Then Hana’s hazel eyes peeked over the top of the pillow, pairing herself with the large blue owl printed on her pillowcase. It looked like Matt’s sudden debauchery had gathered a rapt audience.

“You’re terrible.” Hana jested, her voice muffled in the fabric.

Her coy responses amused Matt. Hana could be a merciless tease if she wanted to be. She could weave poetry out of thin air about Matt’s charm and good looks that were inviting and sweet like warm molasses. But Matt wanted to be the one to start the game, knowing Hana preferred receiving attention more than giving it. Setting the rules himself also gave him a bit of an adrenaline rush, which set off with thunder behind his ears and pulsed down with the heat gathering below his waist.

“But you can’t get enough of me.” Matt suggested, lifting his chin.

Hana lowered the pillow and clutched it over her stomach. Her teeth caught her bottom lip as she rocked herself and seemed contemplate her next course of action. “I think I could take a little more from you.” she said, cocking her head.

“I don’t know,” replied Matt. He pushed himself back into his chair with a grin, stretching his arms behind his head. “Turnabout’s fair play, I hear.”

A dialogue bubble flashed onto the corner of Matt’s computer screen with a short, piping beep. The hem of Hana’s skirt slid along her thighs as she settled herself onto her knees. If she knew, she didn’t show she was conscious of its effects on Matt, that every time it moved closer to Hana’s waist the carnal voice in his head told him to flick the mouse and make the bubble disappear. Then, that voice suggested, Matt could focus on setting the mood and later flick his wrist for a different purpose. But the background processes behind the video chat kept demanding his attention.

A second, more incessant dialogue popped up, and this time in the center of the screen with a flashing blue header. ‘ _AUDIO ACTIVITY PROCESSED. RECORDING IN SESSION._ ’

“SHIT!” Matt yelped, his hand flying to grab his hair. Without warning, his tracking program opened a new window and, in bright orange, began marking every peak and crest from the target’s cell phone conversation.

Hana composed herself, snapping her hem back down her legs. “Are you alright over there? Did something happen?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest as if to cover herself.

When Matt had tapped into the target’s mobile, it was still possible to expose his end of the connection regardless of his extensive security measures. Matt was certain the first few waves didn’t include any of their colorful exchanges but still, he damn well hoped his tactless mix of business and pleasure hadn’t been caught on record.

Without a word, Matt shut off the video chat and logged off from his IM. For good measure and in spite of his confidence, Matt scrolled through the program settings and double checked his connection’s security. Then he took a deep breath, remembering his emotional training and counted backwards from ten, fighting the vivid scenes flashing in his head of what might have happened if he’d failed - if Hana had to pay the price for his mistake in the near future.

Seconds later, Matt noticed his mobile was buzzing, the vibrations making the device dance in erratic spirals over the side of his desk. It seemed safer to check his SMS once the diagnostics ran up to his usual satisfaction. With half his mind still focused on his job, Matt opened his mobile and saw that Hana had spammed him with question marks in the span of three messages, peppering a few exclamation marks in between.

“Sorry, work.” he swiped into the text box. Matt supposed Hana must have been fuming, or at least down right miffed by his sudden disappearance. “Love you. Sorry,” he added right after.

He hit send, and then it was silent. The tall and narrow orange waves bounced up and down in a breakneck speed, and Matt wished that her reply had also come as fast. Rather, his waiting became as long as the audio track, which extended fast to include every recent addition to the record.

Unable to stand the suspense any longer Matt took his mobile and flipped back and forth between his inbox and the home screen, though he knew it wouldn’t make her reply send any faster. His tongue was dry against the roof of his mouth, and when Matt gulped his throat felt a little sore. With shaking hands, he extracted the target’s location from the audio, encrypting and sending the sensitive information to Asha’s PDA through his computer.

Matt grieved that he should have sent Hana a longer response, and he was preparing a third message in his mind until his mobile fired off again. He fumbled with the passcode a few times, too eager to control himself and input the right combination on his first try.

He opened Hana’s new message, and drew a huge sigh of relief after reading it. Craning his neck over the top of his chair, Matt wiped the sweat off his brow. A pair of hearts greeted him at the end of the SMS feed.


	8. Spare Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Hana kill time on the Ship by playing around with an autotuner. Their relationship also takes a very subtle yet significant turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done for a prompt that pierceaholic/autumnyte sent me, "I want to hear you sing." I kinda struggled with this prompt given Matt and Hana's limited musical abilities, but pierceaholic generously helped me out and pointed me in the direction of using an autotuner :D Chyrstis and Celesteennui also provided some beta work and improved this prompt a heckuva lot, so I am extremely thankful for their help.
> 
> This takes place a bit after 'Isn't It Stunning?'

Matt scowled at the snail pace the progress bar moved on his screen. His profession required patience, but he could spare none for what was supposed to be a simple patch up for Asha’s new training simulation.

 

He jumped from his chair when he smelled coppery smoke wafting from Hana’s workbench. It was nerve-wracking to share a workspace with a gunsmith and radioactive material, even if Matt knew how competent his friend’s safety precautions were. But he quickly discovered that Hana was just soldering a jack into a hard drive and sighed in relief. Then a blue device sitting on her workbench caught his attention.

 

“Is that... an auto tuner?” asked Matt as he stood.

 

Hana’s hand jerked when she registered his words, but made no other instance of her surprise as she nodded.

 

“What are you using that for?”

 

“I’m going to tear it apart once I get a speaker fixed up,” Hana explained. “CID asked for a few hardware upgrades, including structural support for his voice modulation system so he doesn’t sound so... echo-y.”

 

Matt picked up the machine, studying it as Hana moved over to her file drawer. It appeared dated, its blocky appearance and tacky use of plastic decor suggesting it must have been manufactured during the nineties. “I’m rather confused why and how you’d use this to upgrade CID. You’re not thinking of infusing the auto tuner’s parts onto his shell, are you? I thought that CID’s audio modulation was mostly comprised of software?”

 

“It is. The machine’s obviously too dated be compatible with CID’s systems, but his current systems are also out of date. It can’t produce the audio quality his program’s capable of rendering.”

 

Hana weaved behind Matt with a thick black binder. Unzipping it, she spread it to reveal pages of blueprints, many with neat notes scribed along the margins.

 

“Where he’s at now, it’s literally playing sounds through an old and batty stereo system, which explains why his voice sounds so funny. But I can’t explore CID’s shell without risking damage to his structure, so I’m going to use the auto tune machine as a point of reference for his hardware.”

 

Matt ran a finger over the dial labels, collecting a small mound of dust at which he scrunched his nose. “Are you sure the machine can compare to the complexity of CID’s systems?”

 

“It _is_ Zin technology,” Hana said. “Remember the monitors in the Bridge? It was like fixing an iPad.”

 

Matt nodded, trying to forget that she’d also perused through his personal files and most likely gotten a look at the notes he’d made on her pineapple allergy. He distracted himself by flipping through her binder, and almost salivated when he noticed that at least three of the intricate diagrams were sketched in pencil..

 

“I remember. Impressive work on the binder, by the way,” he said, intent on acting professional. It was a struggle with the blush rising on Hana’s cheeks. “But, do you really think it’s a good idea to upgrade CID?”

 

“Why wouldn’t it be? I’m not equipping anything lethal on him,” Hana said. “He only wanted to sound more natural so that he, quote unquote, _would be more appealing to humans_.”

 

Matt couldn’t form a response to what he’d just heard and covered his mouth instead. The last thing he wanted to think about was CID and his libidinous ways. Poor Hana must have been aware of them by now, but being the kind soul that she was she never could say no when someone asked her for help.

 

His eyes fell on the autotuner again, distracting himself from his disturbing thoughts. Regardless of age the device was still in good condition, Matt noticed - and after seeing the wrapped cord trailing behind it he wondered if it still functioned.

 

“Mind if I give it a try?” he asked.

 

Hana whirled about, almost dropping the binder under her arm. “Are you going to sing for me?” she asked, teetering on her feet with a grin.

 

“No!” Matt exclaimed so his embarrassment sounded more like offense. “I just wanted to play around with it!”

 

There didn’t seem to be hurt in Hana’s eyes as she looked at him, though her footsteps were subdued as she shuffled close to him and took the machine cord. “That’s too bad. I would have been happy to hear you sing,” Hana said. Letting the cord’s length trail over her palm, she walked to the power bar near Matt’s couch. She fixed the plug into the bar’s socket and flashed a thumbs up. “There’s a microphone in the box under the table. Try it out!”

 

He ducked under the table and found a large, pastel blue box labelled in kanji. Sure enough, when he lifted the lid, Matt found a small silver microphone sitting atop a pile of various machine parts. Unbending, Matt plugged in the microphone jack, and held it as if it were alive with a hundred gaping mouths on its head, ready to gnash at his face.

 

“You aren’t going to make me sing?” Matt asked.

 

“I wouldn’t object.” She moved back to his side, her hands tucked behind her back. “But no, not if you don’t want to.”

 

Shaking his head, Matt lifted the microphone, squinting as he spoke through it. “ _I’d sound bloody ridiculous_.”

 

They both chuckled at the erratic jumps in his pitch. The machine elongated Matt’s vowels to an absurd length, making them sound wobbly as they buzzed out of the speakers. Matt thought it was rather novel to try, after hearing it used so often.

 

Facing the machine towards her, Hana twisted a few of the dials. “Try it now. I think you’ll sound better this time.”

 

Dealing with social pressure was a difficult thing for Matt, but it never stopped his talent of thinking on his feet. Back in grammar school he had gripped at straws to impress whatever classmate bothered to give him an inkling of interest. Mischief usually won them over, at least temporarily.

 

That same brand of mischief inspired Matt to do his best mock impression of CID - or at least one where the robot’s monotone was flavored with rolling crescendos and a back echo that seemed ripped from a Flock of Seagulls guitar riff.

 

“ _Do I sound more appealing to you, Miss Maeda?_ ” Matt crooned through the microphone. Hana doubled over  with laughter. “ _Will I finally be accepted as one of your kind?_ “

 

Hana leveraged herself on the edge of her table, flipping back her auburn hair. “Don’t make fun of CID!” She swatted Matt’s shoulder. “If only autotune fixed people’s manners too. Though in most cases it doesn’t even make you sound that nice, no matter how much you play with the settings.”

 

“You know, autotune can still be a valid form of artistic expression when placed in capable hands,” Matt insisted. He lifted his chin. “I even had a few samples in the compilation I sent you over the extranet.”

 

“The one from a few days ago?”

 

“Precisely,” he said, tapping his fingers on the mic’s shaft. “ Did any take your fancy?”

 

“Marina and the Diamonds,” Hana said. “I can’t stop listening to her.”

 

“I thought you’d like her,” said Matt, turning himself to lean against the table edge. It was the type of music that you wanted to dance to, but there was a coming-of-age narrative in the Welsh singer’s lyrics that touched on the struggles of hedonistic youth, that tugged at your soul and made you want to belt along with her impossibly beautiful high octaves. “Her music reminds me a lot of you.”

 

Hana sent him a studying gaze. There was a soft look in her eyes --the kind one could appreciate the sight of while basking under warm duvet covers-- it made Matt shift about uncomfortably. Her teeth nipped her bottom lip, white contrasting against cerise, as if she’d come to some sort of revelation.

 

“How so?” she asked.

 

The slow slide of Hana’s hand along Matt’s forearm made his eyes flutter. It drifted along his sleeve until her fingers curved around his wrist and dropped off to the side. There wasn’t a hint of suggestiveness in her relaxed smile, and yet it still made Matt’s space suit feel a little tighter.

 

“Are you going to demonstrate?” Hana tugged at the mic cord.

 

That elicited a choking, uneasy laugh, one so unnatural it took a second for Matt to register it as his own. “For the love of - you do _not_ want to hear me sing!”

 

“Then why would I ask?” Hana bounced on her heels and patted the underside of his arm, encouraging him to lift the microphone.

 

“Because you don’t know how awful it will sound,” Matt chuckled, reaching for the machine’s off button. “It’s a mercy for us both, I promise you.”

 

The Hold doors swooshed open without warning.

 

“What’s a mercy?” asked Asha. Matt’s partner came into the room with a clipboard tucked under her arm, her purposeful stride echoing steady as a drum beat. Her boots clicked together while she turned towards the pair. Matt realized he’d forgotten all about her training simulation.

 

“Nothing important. Just chatting.” Matt said, tucking the microphone behind his back. Not that it mattered - Asha didn’t seem the least bit interested in the device sitting behind their elbows; her focus was on the progress bar filling up on Matt’s monitor.

 

While Asha rambled about how impatient she was, Hana’s cheek brushed against Matt’s arm as she stretched behind him, slipping the microphone out of his hand. Then she planted her hand on his hip as she steadied herself on her feet. Of course, Matt didn’t like having his personal space violated but Hana’s excessive touching erased any coherent thoughts in his head.

 

“Matt?”

 

It was Asha’s stern voice that yanked him back to reality. She met him with a stern look and rigid posture perfected through arduous training long ago..

 

“I’m listening,” Matt lied, rubbing his temple. Hana had disconnected the microphone, and he tried not to leer at the sight of her on her knees, reaching for the white box under her table.

 

“How much longer do I have to wait?”

 

“Until the patch is finished.”

 

The spy scoffed and tossed her ponytail over her shoulder but Matt could see amusement slipping through too. She had a Sherlockian way of finding the clandestine in her surroundings, and had a lot of practice from the times Matt tried to cover up fanfiction writing sessions during work. From the slight curve of her mouth, Matt knew that she was quite interested in the close proximity between himself and Hana.

 

Hana took a step towards the power bar, but Matt held his hand in front of her. He unplugged the machine himself and, using two fingers on each hand, looped the cord with grace. No doubt Asha would read more into his generous gesture than he had intended. She hawked over his every move with a gleam in her eyes as he assured Hana that helping her hadn’t been a problem whatsoever.

 

“What are you two doing?” Asha asked, a playful lilt in her voice suggesting she already knew the answer. Matt furrowed his brow at his partner as he offered a hand to Hana, who didn’t seem disturbed by the interrogation at all.

 

“We were just fooling around.” Hana said. “To be fair, it was work related. Sort of.”

 

“If it gets me closer to training, I’m all right.” Asha shrugged and leaned against Matt’s computer desk.

 

“Not quite,” said Hana. “I’m working on upgrades for CID, but Matt got overzealous with my auto tune machine.”

 

Matt pivoted towards her and cocked back his head. “Overzealous?!”

 

“I almost had him singing.” With her finger and thumb, Hana illustrated the margin of her success. “By this much.”

 

Asha folded her arms together, grinning while Matt retreated back to his computer chair in humiliation. He hadn’t the spirit to tackle Hana’s nefarious ways at the present. Actually, Matt _knew_ the argument couldn’t be won with the two women jabbing his ego all at once, and distracted himself from Hana’s giggling with his next task.

 

Asha was still in his sight however, and Matt noticed the wink she sent him. He sneered at her over his shoulder.

 

“I admire her,” Matt muttered in the lowest register his voice could muster. But he knew that his growing romantic intentions were becoming more and more impossible to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit that this fic might seem a little strange, in terms of how Matt's affections seem to just 'spring up' at you. There's supposed to be a whole trail of events that slowly build up his infatuation with Hana, but I haven't determined them yet. It's kinda strange that I jumped right next to the climax of their adorations, so to speak, but the prompt wound up taking that turn for me unintentionally. Hopefully I can better express how gradual Matt and Hana fall in love with each other through future fics.


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